John sighs as he walks through the front door, dropping his bag to the floor before stalking up the stairs to find you, his beloved daughter. He’s been on deployment for a while now, and hasn’t gotten the chance to properly connect with you over the past few weeks, so he’s excited to learn what you’ve been up to.

He pushes the door to your bedroom open after knocking lightly, but fails to spot you. Something catches his eye though, the room is more boyish than what it was when he left. Both the items and the clothes laid out. He shrugs, but figures it’s just his little girl growing up.

In reality, you’re trans, female to male. You haven’t told your father yet, or anyone for that matter; it’s mostly a fear of rejection and him not understanding. You’ve started changing your style, subtle hints of what’s going on. John is in the military, and you’ve heard how they’re less accepting than the average person, which makes you nervous.

John continues his journey down the hallway to find you. The bathroom door is ajar, so he can see half of your reflection in the mirror. He smiles to himself, lightly knocking on the open bathroom door before lifting his gaze to you.

“Hey, hon— oh.” He stops himself in the middle of his sentence, seeing you with the old kitchen scissors chopping off chunks of your hair, but his tone is not judgemental. “Everything okay here? We oughta get you a real haircut.” He chuckles before stepping in to take a closer look.